The Forest
by Gabriel Gatsby
Summary: The forest was always a place of curiosity.


_And with a crown of feathers upon her head, she was the queen of the forest, princess of the dark, and ruler of all who dwelt there. At night she slept upon a bed of leaves, with a blanket of stars to warm her._

 _And she was never lonely._

Something's here. Rustling leaves, snapping twigs. Breaking. Hurting. Young shoots, crushed underfoot. Always so clumsy. Always so careless.

Not like her; daughter of the forest. She cares. She's ours.

 _Ours_.

It's coming closer. Quick! Stalk, hunt. _Protect._

Closer, closer, closer. Come closer.

 _Stop._ Listen. Where is it? Where?

 _Come closer._

They're here again. The forest feels them.

My brothers slink, slip – _steal_ through the darkness. Dark coats dyed darker by the night, so much so that they might not be there at all. But I can see them. I can feel them. All around, we move as one. Prowling. Protecting. _Golden, she-wolf, dark, and runt._

A howl, and I return the call. _Safe._

 _Crack!_ They're getting closer.

Why are they here? Why do they come? The forest feels them creeping, like poison berry under skin. _Hurting._

But we will send them back again.

 _Closer, Stranger. Come closer._

I _know_ they're here…

But I'm also pretty sure they know I'm here – almost certainly not a good thing. If I could just get a little closer, though…

But I shouldn't be here. I'm sure of it, like I can sense it. The forest doesn't _want_ me here… if that even makes any sense. It's like it's placing these bloody broken twigs under my feet _so_ I can snap them.

Why do I feel like I'm being watched?

 _Crack!_

Dammit! At this rate I'm going to get more than the usual slap on the wrist. Maybe I should turn back…

Which way was back? And why is it so bloody _dark?_

 _He comes from another world, where the stars are studied, not heard, and those born with no coat of their own kill and steal for the comfort. With no knowledge of the night to guide him, he creeps into the lion's den, heavy-footed and danger-blind, because he feels it…_

 _Something… different. Something… more._

 _And cursed curious, the two legged always crave more._

 _More._

 _More._

What _is_ it?

Like me? My chest _ba-dum, ba-dums,_ as the moon finds holes in the trees and I can see it.

 _No, not it… him._

Like me, but… taller. Like brothers to she-wolf. Bigger. Stronger.

 _But no. He is not stronger than me. I have brothers, and he is all alone._

And they are here. Golden slinks from the green, fur all up, teeth out. A snarl.

 _Protect._

Dark is next, soft-footed, not like stranger.

 _Why is he here? Why does he come?_

Closer, closer, closer.

A howl. _Kill!_

 _No!_

I found them!

I can hardly believe my eyes – or breathe, for the fear and exhilaration that spins dizzyingly through my veins. I wanted to find a wolf pack. A _wolf pack._

 _And I found her…_

 _She's beautiful._

Wild, untamed, pure, perfect – _I must be dreaming._

 _Please, please, never let me wake up._

Just at the edge of the clearing, half in shadow, half alight – the silver of the moon gilds touches of her face. And she stands… erect. Fearless.

And so she should be. She's not alone.

Arm outstretched, her hand rests in the soft, bristling fur of a _wolf. A big, fucking wolf._

Its fur looks golden even in the dark – its teeth bright, frightening white. Alarm bells begin to ring, but I can't move. Wide, brown eyes fix me to the spot. And then fear, as another appears from the darkness. I didn't see him before, for the almost black-grey of his coat.

 _How many are there?_

Then a haunting, menacing howl sends an icy chill shivering down my spine as the servants of the moon crouch readily on their haunches.

 _Ready to pounce,_ I realise. _Ready to kill._

Wait!

 _Why?_

Something… like me. Something… different. Stranger, why did you come?

And you make strange sounds. Soft, murmuring – like the life water. Coming and going sounds. I don't understand.

Snarl, yip.

Golden wants to know. _Kill? Protect!_

Not yet. Wait.

 _Why?_

Something…

 _I can't believe it._

One hand twisted tight in golden fur, she snarls, and they stay. _They listen to her._

"Who are you?" I find myself asking. "How long have you been here? How did you get here?"

Her answer is answer enough. Gruff, rumbling sounds spat from between gritted teeth. Guttural and low. _Too long, or long enough. She doesn't know any different._

The golden wolf growls, and I find myself observing their exchange with trepidation. I feel like a man on death-row, waiting to hear his sentence. I watch her. _So beautiful._

Then she looks at me, and for the first time I feel like I understand as something akin to a smile touches her lips. It's brutal, all teeth and no joy, but I see it clearly in her eyes.

 _Something…_

Turning to her kin, she howls, and between the two I can see and two I cannot, four feral voices call back.

Stalk, watch, protect… wait.


End file.
